


Off the Screen, Out of the Wood

by biowhathaveyoudone



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biowhathaveyoudone/pseuds/biowhathaveyoudone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrity/Fan AU. A small gift carved by Arlane Lavellan catches Iron Bull's eye at a meet and greet. Deciding to commission her, their lives begin to overlap in more ways than either expected. Rating will eventually go up. Will add characters as they appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Arlane = Ahr-luh-nay

Arlane Lavellan shifted slightly. It had been a very long day. She had left the store to Dagna and showed up far earlier than she had ever wanted to admit to the crowd barriers that lined where he was going to appear that night. For hours, she had been crammed amongst hundreds of strangers while jostling to keep her position right at the barriers. With her larger frame, it had been a little easier for the dark redhead to keep her place. She was grateful she wore her hair shaved on the sides and the rest on top swiped back, keeping her neck and most of her head open to the brief breezes that made it through the throng of people.

But the end was in sight. She was only a few feet away from  _The_  Iron Bull. Athlete turned actor, he was extremely popular with everyone from sports bar football fans to the teenagers currently testing the limits of her eardrums. She had been watching him since he had played professional football, in awe of how he moved across the field, brushing aside other players like they were flies. After he had retired, he had begun acting and somewhere along the way, became a respected actor, no longer the former football player. But what had always drawn her was his interviews, when he was himself, or as much of himself as he ever showed the public. Charming, tall, handsome, but not afraid to say exactly what he thought. Maybe it was foolish to think that was the real him he was with people he knew, but she was drawn to him all the same.

Arlane brushed her pocket where the hewn dragon sat, once again assuring herself it was still there. Iron Bull had a well-documented love of dragons. His former football teammates swore the day he broke the record for most sacks in a single game, he had a dragon necklace around his neck. She took a deep breath. He was even closer now. She slipped a hand into her pocket, pulling the wooden dragon out. She’d hand it to him and ask for his autograph.  _Please sign this… No. Please will you sign this?_  She clutched a simple white posterboard for it. Would he smile? Thank her for the dragon? Or would it be just another dragon a fan had given him yet again?

It all happened at once. Iron Bull looked up from where he had finished signing another fan’s autograph and their eyes met. The jostling behind her increased for a moment before subsiding, but all she could see was the easy smile on his face as he moved over. Just as she began to smile back, there was a jolt in the middle of her back and a tug on her arm. As she fell back, her foot landed on another person’s foot and slipped off and she was falling. Bodies crowded her vision as people pushed forward to where she had been standing and then all she could see was legs. She tried to push herself up off the ground, but a foot landed on her lower back, backing off almost immediately but others soon followed. No one had noticed her fall. They were all too focused on him. She felt panic rise at the back of her throat. But then a hand curled around her arm and she was lifted bodily up. 

Her head was spinning and by the time she figured out she had been pulled out of the crowd and was on the other side of the barriers, Iron Bull’s face swam into view. He was crouching right in front of her and she realized it had been him who had pulled her out of the crowd. She felt her face heat. She wasn’t the smallest person and he had lifted her up like she was nothing. He had needed to save her.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She looked down at herself, disheveled and slightly dirty, but nothing hurt more than an ache.

“I think so,” she replied. “Thank you.” He smiled.

“Glad to hear it.” A sudden realization hit her and she looked down at the hand that held the dragon she had carved. The tail was gone, snapped off, and its head hung by a few splinters. Scratches and dings marred the wings. She felt tears prick at her eyes. Ruined.

“Was that for me?” he asked and she almost jumped, realizing he was still there. She looked back up at him, trying to blink away the tears and nodded. He held out his head and with trembling fingers, she placed the broken dragon in his palm. His hands were so large, they dwarfed hers. But before she could get distracted by them, he was speaking.

“Did you make this?” She blinked. He was studying the little dragon intensely.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. His eyes moved back to hers and her breath caught in her chest. 

“Please tell me you do this for a living.” Her eyes went wide and there was a second before she could nod her head. He smiled widely, but before he could say anything else, a man approached him and whispered in his ear.

“Okay, so I have to go,” said Iron Bull as he straightened. Her head craned up. Creators, he was tall. “But you have a business card right?” Arlane’s eyes widened even further as she nodded again. He grinned. “Just leave it with Krem here. I want you to make me another dragon.” He pocketed the little broken one and moved off, waving at the screaming fans behind her. The man he had called Krem crouched down, smiling gently at the shock on her face.

“He wants to commission me,” she said faintly. “The Iron Bull wants to commission me.”

“He prefers Bull,” said Krem, offering his hand to help her to her feet. “You didn’t lose anything in the crowd did you?” Jolted from her shock, she looked down at herself, patted her pockets. 

“I have my phone, wallet,” she said.

“Keys?”

“I took the bus. Home key is in my wallet,” she replied. “I guess I lost the posterboard for an autograph. Oh, you need my card.” She pulled her wallet out of her pocket and handed over her business card.

“Skyhold Crafting?” asked Krem, reading the card. She nodded. He pulled out a notebook, writing something down before placing the card in between the pages and replacing the notebook inside his sport coat. He smiled at her again.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the crowd disperses or I can have you walked safely through the crowd.” She took a deep breath, looking from him to where Bull had disappeared to and back to the crowd where she had been pulled from.

“This is real,” she said softly. His smile softened.

“It is, Miss Lavellan.” She blinked, shocked.

“Oh,” she said, realizing and flushing. “My card.” He laughed but not rudely.

“We have a tent set up for the security team. You have to stay off your phone, but I’ll take you over there and settle for a bit before we send you home. A lot has happened.”

“Thank you,” she said as she followed him. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered this. And now she would be working for Bull. She would get to see him again, or at the very least, speak with him over the phone about what he wanted. A smile spread across her face. What a fantastic day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reveal that she was the fan Iron Bull pulled from the crowd leads to unforseen consequences and benefits for Arlane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, I'm approaching this AU with the idea that the characters are all human-ish, ie. more normalized heights, the races of dwarves, elves, Qunari are more like European, Asian, African, etc. No horns for Qunari, though their skin tones still tend towards grey. Only a few elves still have the long pointed ears, the race long ago starting to intermingle with humans, dwarves, and other races. Most still have a slight bump at the top of the shell of their ear. Dalish still have their vallaslin, but not necessarily on their face. I have much more thought out and if anything ever confuses you, feel free to ask here or on my tumblr of the same name. I hope to explain this throughout the story but wanted to bring it up now.
> 
> Reminder: Arlane = Ahr-luh-nay

“Varric, I’m begging you. Dagna and I can’t do this by ourselves. We could barely handle yesterday after that news station reported I was the fan Bull pulled out of the crowd and today’s even worse. Please.” Arlane waited anxiously, eyes flicking to the line at the register. She heard him sigh.

“Violet, you know I would, but my deadline’s in a week. Did you try Dorian?”

“Library,” she sighed. “And you know he refuses to answer his phone while he’s there. I was going to try and catch him tonight for his help tomorrow since everyone else is working. I’ve never been more grateful we’re closed weekends.”

“Oh yeah, it is Thursday,” he said absentmindedly, in the way she knew meant he was thinking about his books.

“I’m sorry for bothering you Varric,” she said.

“What about Lace?” he asked quickly before she hung up. “Did you try her?”

“No!” she said happily. “I forgot she was back in town. Thanks Varric!”

“Any time,” he chuckled as she hung up. With a quick glance over at Dagna who was frantically ringing up customers, Arlane dialed Lace Harding. A minute later, she put the phone back in its cradle beneath the counter feeling just slightly less stressed.

“Harding is coming in,” she called to Dagna who brightened significantly.

“Good. We need the help.”

“No kidding,” muttered Arlane to herself as she looked out. The line to Dagna’s register was at least 4 people long. She couldn’t tell where it ended and the crowd began. She wondered faintly if they were breaking fire code. She only had a small storefront and it was currently packed to bursting. With a deep breath, she pushed out into the crowd.

As busy as she was answering questions and helping customers find what they were looking for, if she had what they were looking for at all, it seemed like no time had passed when Harding showed up. Lace Harding was a few inches shorter than Arlane and covered in freckles. She was extremely good at dealing with customers, friendly and welcoming. She could only help out occasionally though since she traveled for a living as a photojournalist, scouting out new and beautiful areas of the world.

“You weren’t joking,” said Harding as she reached Arlane through the crowd of people. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need to cover Dagna’s lunch. Can you stay here and I’ll run register?”

“Sure thing,” she replied with a smile, moving over to two customers huddled around a relief carving of a forest.

Making her way back towards the counter, Arlane noticed the store had emptied slightly. Hopefully Dagna wasn’t going to be the only person going to lunch pretty soon.

* * *

 

Dagna had been extremely relived to see Arlane and hurried out of the store quickly before any customer could stop her. They did slow down a little over the lunch hour at least when it came to people who purchased something. The store stayed as crowded as ever. Dagna had gotten back and Arlane was about to leave to eat real fast when she saw a customer heading for the counter through the crowd. Both she and Dagna knew from the way the woman was staring them down she was going to be an issue.

“I’ve got her,” said Arlane to Dagna.

“Good luck,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth before turning back to the register.

“I need a discount,” squawked a woman as she approached the counter. “This item is damaged.” Arlane felt her chest go tight as she saw what the woman held in her hands, what she carelessly put on the counter.

“Right here,” said the woman, pointing. The bow had been carved out of beautiful white driftwood, painstaking whorls and designs drilled through it, allowing light to filter through. A beautiful decorative piece with more meaning than the woman could ever understand. The woman was pointing at one large whorl in the center of the bow where there were dings and scratches.

“This item is not for sale,” said Arlane, her voice shaking slightly. “The sign-”

“It’s damaged. I want a discount,” demanded the woman.

“It’s not for sale!” snapped Arlane. “And even if it was, you wouldn’t get a discount because you were the one who caused the damage by removing it from the hook it was carefully placed on and ignoring the large sign that said it wasn’t for sale.” The woman puffed up, but before she could say anything a man stepped in.

“It’s time for you to leave ma’am.”

“I refuse to be spoken to like that!”

“You deserve worse. Your choice is this. Leave, or I’m going to call the cops and report you for damaging someone’s property.” The woman spluttered angrily, but Arlane’s attention had fallen back to the bow, sadly tracing the damaged area. As the noise subsided, she glanced up.

“Thank you,” she said quietly to the man who still had his back to her, watching the woman storm out of the store.

“My apologies,” he said, turning.

“Krem,” she said surprised. “I didn’t…”

“Mr. Taashi sent me to set up an appointment. And to deliver his apologies for the madhouse he’s made your store.” She felt relieved she hadn’t said Bull’s name out loud. Of course he would use a fake name.

“I’ve never been this busy or this profitable. He really shouldn’t apologize…” she protested. Krem’s eyes merely fell to the bow.

“Is it special to you?”

“…Yes,” she whispered, tears pricking at her eyes.

“Then it’s reason enough,” he replied simply. She blinked frantically at the tears that swam in her eyes, bending down to retrieve her schedule from underneath the counter.

“It would be best for Mr. Taashi to come before or after hours, I think,” she said, clearing her throat. Krem nodded with a small smile as he retrieved his own notebook.

“What works best for him?” she asked, hesitating.

“You’re closed weekends?” asked Krem and she nodded. “Would you mind…?”

“Of course not,” she said hurriedly.

“Sunday morning? Around 10? It shouldn’t take too long right? Mr. Taashi loves his football.” They both grinned.

“10 Sunday morning,” she repeated in approval, writing it neatly in the book.

“Excellent,” said Krem, making his own notation. “And here. In case something changes, you can contact me.” He held out his card.

“Of course,” she said, attaching the card by her memo. “Oh and before I forget…” She grabbed another of her business cards, turning it around and quickly wrote another number down. “The store line has been ringing off the hook and we set up an automatic response system when we’re closed asking to call during store hours. This is my cell. You can just go ahead and use that from now on if anything comes up.”

“Sounds good,” he said, making a note in his notebook.

“Arlane! Oh. Excuse me.” Harding had almost ran up, only noticing Krem at the last moment and smiling apologetically.

“Harding, what is it?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said hesitantly.

“We just wrapped up,” said Krem.

“Thank you for your business,” said Arlane.

“Until Sunday,” he replied with a smile to both Arlane and Harding before leaving.

“Who was he?” asked Harding as soon as the door closed.

“That’s Krem. He set up an appointment for his employer to talk about a commission.”

“A commission? That’s great!” she said enthusiastically. “You have to tell me all about it later. There’s a customer interested in the rosewood vase with the etchings.”

“Really? Did they say anything about the price?”

“Not to me. Wanted to talk to the artist,” she said with a shrug.

“Good way or bad way?” Arlane asked as they moved towards the display of the vase.

“Couldn’t say. Good luck!”

“Lace!” she called quickly. “The bow is sitting on the counter. Can you take it up to my workroom please?” The freckled girl’s eyes widened before anger rose and she nodded. Arlane turned back around, pushed the numbness the thought of the damage to the bow brought aside, and put on her customer face as she approached the rosewood vase.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Arlane sighed gratefully and switched the sign on the door from ‘OPEN’ to ‘CLOSED’. Turning back around, she studied her storefront. Empty spots littered display cases. Mainly in the small decorative pieces but larger pieces as well, most of which must have been sold at display price since she didn’t remember speaking with the customers who purchased them. It was more than she had ever expected.

“I’ll need to put up a sign apologizing for low stock until I can refill everything,” she said as Dagna and Harding approached.

“If it stays as busy as this, you’ll need to close the store before long,” said Dagna. “We can’t keep up with this.”

“I hope the weekend will help,” replied Arlane, locking the front door. “Don’t these things normally die down quickly?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” put in Harding. “You’ve already got one commission from all this. Who’s Mr. Taashi anyway?”

“If that gets out it’ll get even worse.” Arlane grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Someone big?” said Dagna, eyes wide.

“It’s Iron Bull. But you can’t go telling anyone…” She was cut off by the excited reactions of the two as their words overlapped.

“You’re joking!... That’s so great! I can’t believe… _The_ Iron Bull is commissioning you… What do you think he… This is amazing!!” Arlane couldn’t help but smile and waited until the two calmed down.

“He wants me to carve him a dragon. But seriously, this cannot get out. Do you understand?” They both nodded, sobering slightly.

“Thank you. And thank you for all your help today. I know it was crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” sighed Dagna. “I don’t think we stopped from this morning until now.”

“Can you fix the bow?” asked Harding.

“What happened to it?” said Dagna immediately, whirling to see it indeed wasn’t on its display.

“A customer pulled it off. Wanted to buy it,” replied Arlane, cold creeping back into her chest.

“But the signs,” Dagna said weakly. “I’m so sorry Arlane.”

“It’s fine,” she replied automatically. “I’ll look at it this weekend.” Dagna and Harding started angrily discussing the rudeness of customers as they cleaned the store, counted the till, and shut off the lights. Arlane waved to the two, still swapping stories between Harding selling prints of her photos and Dagna at the shop, as they left through the back door, closing and locking it behind them. She sighed, slowly trudging up the stairs to the loft above the storefront where she worked and lived. She was grateful to the two for filling the silence, understanding why she wasn’t joining in. She glanced at the bow, laid carefully on a worktable, but moved away from it, plucking a piece of scrap wood out of the barrel she kept them in. Flicking open a pocket knife as she sat in the chair at her drafting table, she began whittling, her own way of de-stressing. She looked up half an hour later, a circle knot beginning to become apparent in the small piece of wood. Reaching for pen and paper, she quickly scrawled a list.

-Put up sign for low inventory

-Rearrange cases/displays

-Bank deposit

-Groceries

-Bow

She pushed away, leaving the worries of tomorrow on the paper as best she could. She perked up slightly as she began to make dinner, remembering that the meeting for the commission on Sunday also meant something else. Only two days until she got to see Bull again. Wouldn’t that be a weekend? Fix the bow tomorrow, see him again on Sunday. A real smile tugged at her lips. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Arlane glanced up from the bow to check once again she had drafting pad, pencils, pens, the book of sample wood, and her own chart for making estimates still lay where she had put them. There were still there as they had been the last four times she had checked, but she still felt faintly worried she had forgotten something and she’d have to run around trying to find it while Bull waited. As much as that was true, it was also a distraction from the bow in her hands. She hadn’t been able to figure out whether or not she could fix it the day before, choosing to sleep on it, and though she held some extremely fine grain sandpaper in her hand, she still hadn’t been able to bring herself to try and smooth the dings and scratches, terrified of truly breaking the delicate piece of art. She sighed and put down the bow and the sandpaper, brushing her fingers against the markings of June that ran up and down her left arm. Much of the old Dalish ways had been lost. Even their pointed ears lost to time as they intermingled with other races. The vallaslin remained, though it was still new for a person to choose where they took it. Above a certain age in her clan, you never saw them anywhere other than their faces. The younger you got, the more likely you were to see them elsewhere, though you still had those who took them on their face. She had taken hers on her arm, too nervous to take them on her face. Even then she had dreamed of coming to the city to sell her work. At times, she still felt slightly guilty about not having the vallaslin on her face. But she still kept the Creators and never deliberately hid the markings with her clothing. Now, they served to soothe and to remind herself she still had so far to go.

A knocking on the door pulled her from her thoughts and she blushed as she saw Krem. Hurriedly, she pulled out the keys and moved to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized as she opened the door for him.

“Not a problem,” he replied easily. “We’re a little early. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she replied, taking a big breath. Krem smiled before turning back to the black car parked in front of the store and opening the back door. Bull exited and moved into the store with a smile.

“How are you doing?” he asked as Krem inclined his head to the two of them and got into the passenger side of the car.

“I’m good,” she replied automatically as she locked the door.

 _Creators, he’s tall…_ “How are you?”

“Great,” he replied, glancing around.

“That’s good,” she said before blinking and blushing at herself. “I’m sorry.”

He just smiled.

“So… well… that is…” she started, stumbling over her words, embarrassment growing every minute. “I’m so sorry.”

“Relax,” he said gently. Her face burned but she took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. He merely smiled.

“Just another client.”

“Just,” she muttered to herself which made him chuckle and oddly, helped her relax.

“So you said you wanted me to make you another dragon?” she asked risking a glance at him.

“I did. Would you mind if I looked around quick first?”

“Of course not. You’re more than welcome to,” she said with a wide smile, encouraged by his interest in her other work. He returned the smile before turning and approaching the relief that had much interest the day before but never ended up leaving the store.

“Have you always been carving?” he asked as he browsed.

“Whittling since I was little. My parents recognized I had talent early and helped me to grow.”

“And you came to the city a few years ago, right?”

“Yes, three years ago. I opened Skyhold Crafting a year and a half ago. I’ve had a lot of help from a lot of friends who helped me do it even that quickly. It was a little rough at first but I’ve done well enough.”

“I can see why,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but the Dalish influence is quite apparent.”

“You can tell?” she asked, surprised. Though she didn’t hide her heritage, she didn’t fly it around either, not wanting to attract those that fetishized or looked down on her race.

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile as he glanced over to her. “And also, those are Dalish tattoos aren’t they? They are different than the ones I’ve seen so I might be wrong.”

“No, they are,” she said, blinking at his knowledge of them, her fingers brushing against her arm. “There’s different ones for different gods. These honor the god of crafting, June.”

“Fitting,” he said with a smile. “They suit you.”

“Thank you,” she said, fighting a blush. Turning back to the displays, Bull finished his circuit of the store, eyes landing on the bow on the counter.

“Is this the bow?”

“Krem told you?”

“Yes. May I ask why it isn’t for sale?” Arlane nodded, eyes falling to the bow.

“I was very young when I made that,” she started quietly. “With the help of the clan’s chief crafter. Those of us who leave our clan’s to come to the cities bring something with them to remind them of where they came from. Something made by them and the clan. That was mine. I put it in the store to see every time I sold something made with the skills they helped me hone, to remind me of them.”

“Can you fix it?”

“You’re too kind to indulge me all this,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m sure you have things to do. We can discuss what you would like made.” His gaze never flickered.

“Can you fix it?” he repeated. Her mouth fell slightly open and her lips trembled before she pressed them together.

“I don’t know.” He grimaced angrily. She blinked, unsure how to react. She was grateful he was angry for her but was too shocked about receiving empathy from Iron Bull to say anything. She just slightly gaped at him.

“Your work is beautiful,” he said, saving her from trying to find something to say.

“Thank you very much,” she replied sincerely. “To the dragon?”

“The dragon.” He grinned eagerly. She almost laughed good-naturedly at how excited he got but swallowed it, smiling instead as she grabbed pad and pencil.

“I’m assuming you don’t want a more passive stance?” she asked with a small smile as she glanced up at him.

“You would be correct,” he laughed. She laughed as well before turning back to the pad and beginning to sketch. He moved a little closer to watch. It was a quiet few moments as she filled the page with a rough sketch, wings outstretched, one clawed foot raised.

“Something like this?”

“More aggressive,” he said, studying the sketch. He was very close, she could feel the heat coming off his skin as his arm nearly brushed hers and she fought the blush as she erased a few lines, drew some new ones so the dragon’s neck curled forward, jaws open in a hiss.

“Yes!” he said excitedly. “Like that.” She finished the sketch, all the while with excited approval from Bull.

“Okay,” she said, studying the final sketch. “How big would you like it to be?” He grinned, his eyes dancing excitedly and it was all she could do to keep from laughing. He looked like a kid in a candy store.

“How big can I get it?”

“Depends on the material and my supplier,” she explained. “The rarer woods, like the white driftwood of the bow, for this, I couldn’t make it any larger than a cat, maybe a small dog. For the more common woods, it would be a matter of finding a log that would both work for what I need to carve and the constraints of my workroom. And even then it would be quite expensive…” He waved that away.

“I don’t care about the cost.” He frowned suddenly. “Constraints. You said that like your workroom is small.” She flushed.

“Most of my money went into the store front. There’s a studio apartment above where I work and live. I can show you if you like. Give you an idea of what I can do. When it comes to the size I mean.”

“Sure,” he replied easily. She fidgeted slightly before heading over to a door in a back corner, hidden by two displays and marked off limits.

“It’s a mess really,” she said, her hand on the doorknob.

“Doesn’t matter to me.” She opened the door, taking a deep breath as she led him up the short staircase. Flicking on a light, she stood aside. His eyebrows rose briefly. Almost the entire space was filled with work benches, tools, equipment, loose paper with sketched plans, and a few works in progress. A small futon was shoved in the back corner of the room, followed across the back wall by a fridge, stove, and small countertop. Judging by the dimensions of the room, the bathroom had to be one of the smallest he’d ever seen, in the opposite corner from the futon. The space along the back wall between the countertop and bathroom held a bookcase, a desk of drawers, and a small writing desk. He’d put money they’d all been made by her and he approved of her style, as he had with the artwork on display. Simple, classic, with natural lines and details that had to come from her Dalish background.

“So no full sized dragon statue,” he said with a smile.

“No,” she laughed, relieved at his response. “I can still make it large but I’ll be carving this out of a single lump of wood, so I’m not only limited by the workspace but what I can fit up the staircase and through the doors.”

“That’s fine,” he assured.

“Great,” she said with a smile as she moved to tack the sketch onto a board at a nearby workbench. “Did you have a certain type of wood in mind?”

“Can’t say I’m an expert in wood. Well I am, but that’s not what you’re asking,” he said with a grin. She burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said around giggles. “You must think I’m the worst salesperson ever, going over the top to make you happy. Laughing at your jokes.”

“I know a real laugh when I hear it,” he replied. “You’ve got a good one.”

“Thank you,” she replied with a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “As for the wood, just describe what you want the dragon to look like. I have a few different examples I can show you in person and a catalog to show you what I don’t have here.”

“Something dark. But not plain black. Still fiery,” he responded immediately, causing her to smile. She always loved working with clients who knew exactly what they wanted.

“You want the natural wood to look like that. Not a stain, finish, lacquer?” He made a slight face.

“No. None of that.” She considered briefly.

“Well some varieties of rosewood can be darker, maybe walnut, oh!” She turned and dashed towards the living quarters side of the room, returning holding a double sheath holding two daggers. He grinned. She pulled one dagger out, offering it to him hilt first. The dagger was well cared for, the leather sheaths oiled. She knew how to use these daggers. But then his attention was drawn to the wood in the handle. Dark orange and the lines of the tree swirled through it like fire.

“Yes,” he said, his grin widening. “This. This is it.”

“Cocobolo,” she said before wincing. “And it’s quite expensive. The heartwood is what looks like that. So the largest I could do is the size of a medium dog and that’s before the cost of getting ahold of…”

“Price doesn’t matter to me Arlane,” he said with a reassuring smile as he handed the dagger back.

“It never looks good when the craftsman suggests something expensive first off,” she said sheepishly as she returned the daggers. She was grateful for the opportunity to turn her back on him, her face burning after he had said her name. She stopped dead. Her name.

“You said my name right. The first time,” she said, whirling, eyes wide. He laughed.

“Dalish told me how. She’s who I’ve seen the tattoos on before. Part of my security and assistant team. Friend really.”

“Her name is Dalish?”

“Nickname,” he replied before smiling. “I like my nicknames. Krem’s a nickname. His real name’s Cremisius.”

“Ouch,” she said with a sympathetic wince. Bull laughed.

“Oh yeah. That’s what he gets for coming from Tevinter.”

“You don’t have a problem with anyone,” she said, slightly in awe, before flushing violently. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” She turned away, putting the daggers back finally.

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said gently and she turned back, head down, trying to control the blush. “People as a group can be easy to hate or like, whatever’s the case, but individuals from those specific groups rarely fit the stereotypes, at least all of them.” She didn’t realize how much she had relaxed as he had spoken. Just like how she had watched him make excellent points in interviews that she had agreed with, now he was standing in her apartment making another excellent point.

“Really, if you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole,” he finished with a shrug. She smiled widely, almost laughing.

“You can say that again,” she agreed. “Now, let me get your estimate. I’m sorry to say I can’t give you anything solid on the cost of the wood. Because a lot of it grows in areas that are protected, the price on the stuff that people do sell can fluctuate. Cost of labor should be fairly firm depending on the size of the piece of wood,” she explained as she moved over to the sketch she had tacked on the board. Studying it briefly as she grabbed a ruler, she mapped out lines indicating height, width, distance from wing tip to wing tip, front foot to back foot, and others. Bull approached, studying her work.

“What kind of measurements are those?” he asked as she marked numbers that didn’t match what he could see on the ruler by each of the lines.

“Not measurements, ratios,” she said, slightly distracted. “Since I don’t know dimensions yet, it’s a lot easier to put in ratios. When I shop for the wood, there’ll be different blocks with different dimensions. I can take those and apply them to the ratios to determine how large the end product will be or whether the dimensions would be too tight or difficult to work with.” Bull was silent a moment.

“I’m in good hands if this is what you do to prepare. You’re one hell of a worker Arlane.” She felt more pride than embarrassment at his words and didn’t notice her chest puffed slightly.

“Thank you. That means a lot,” she said, turning to meet his eyes briefly. The embarrassment surged then and she turned away to grab a scrap piece of paper, scribbling some figures on it.

“There’s… that is, I have all the rest of the paperwork back downstairs,” she said as she stood, still trying to regain her composure. “And you’ll be free to go on your way.”

“Sounds good,” he said as he followed her back down the steps. She put the piece of scrap paper next to her chart for estimates, muttering to herself as she pulled out the paperwork for the commission. Bull watched, smiling to himself, as she plugged in numbers and carefully filled out the sheet, almost oblivious to his presence.

“Okay,” she said as she finished the paperwork. “Here we go. I ask the cost of the wood down, so you don’t have to pay anything today. I’ll contact you with price and approximate final size of the piece of wood I’m looking at purchasing. I’ll need your signature again then, I can send you the paperwork or you can come in, whatever works, and with that approval plus payment, I’ll order it and begin work from there,” she explained. “Half of that payment will be non-refundable. And all of that is explained in full with all the legal talk necessary on a sheet I’ll attach to your estimate. That’ll also include the explanation of what your signature on the estimate will mean. Basically, once you sign you agree to all costs, understand costs may change since it is an estimate, and you accept that the last chance you have to back out without losing any money is when I contact you about purchasing the base piece of wood. Signature on the estimate once I find the piece of wood has the first two plus acceptance that if you cancel commission you forfeit half the payment.”

“Well covered,” commented Bull approvingly.

“I had help from a very well-read friend on all of that,” she said with a smile as she slid the finished estimate towards Bull. She appreciated that he took the time to read the estimate sheet before signing.

“Thank you for your business,” she said with a smile as she tore off her copy of the estimate sheet and attached the rest of the paperwork to the original, handing it all to Bull.

“Thank you, Arlane,” he replied with a smile. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch from one end or the other.”

“Of course. I’ll be in touch when I find the piece of wood that suits my needs or if that search is taking longer than expected.” She had moved over to the door and unlocked it as she spoke, Krem exiting the car as she did so.

“Have a good day Bull, Krem,” she said with a smile. “Enjoy the football games.” Bull grinned as he left.

“Oh I will. Thanks again.” She waved as the two pulled away before leaning against the doorframe and taking a big breath. That had gone better than she had ever expected, even after how often she had stumbled. Bull appeared to be the person he was in the interviews that she had watched and kinder than she had ever thought possible. She straightened, closing and locking the door behind her before heading up to her workroom. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick email to her supplier as she did so, explaining what she was looking for. She took another deep breath as she finished that, glancing at the sketch tacked up by a workbench. The project was going to be the most considerable she had ever done on her own. And with how busy they had been, she truly did have the risk of running out of pieces in her store once she began work on Bull’s commission. With a short nod, she moved over to a former closet she had converted to storage for new pieces of wood. Selecting a piece of walnut, she set it on a worktable, throwing on a smock covered in smears of lacquer and varnish. Looking at the wood, she could hear Bull’s words in her head. _…the Dalish influence is quite apparent._ It had been awhile since she had felt as inspired as she did in that moment. With a smile, she set to work, beginning to pull the classic Dalish vase she saw out of the raw piece of wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait. This one got a little stuck coming out of my brain.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arlane = Ahr-luh-nay
> 
> I imagine the football leagues to be based by region ie Orlesian league, Ferelden league, Free March league, that each have their own season and then every couple of years, there's one gigantic season where they all compete against each other to be called best in Thedas.

Almost two weeks had passed before Arlane found the piece of wood perfect for Bull’s commission. And it wasn’t an exaggeration to call it perfect. The dimensions were just right, allowing the right about of leeway where it should, able to fit through her doors, and most importantly, the approximate end product would be slightly larger than she had expected, at least a foot and a half tall and double that in length. She had all the papers drawn up before she even received confirmation from her supplier that the piece was being held for her. The confirmation came on a Saturday and she eagerly sent a text to Krem, informing him of the find, the price, and the need for Bull’s signature once again. Krem responded within the hour and Arlane paused her work to refill her store to read the text.

_Bull wants you to be able to get started as soon as possible. However, due to his schedule, he can’t come to you for at least another week and he’s too impatient to wait on mail unless he has to. He’ll be free during the football games tomorrow, and if you’re comfortable with it, I can take you to him. From both myself and Bull, please do not feel obligated to do so. It’s simply an option to expedite the process for us, you, and your supplier as we’re unclear how long they’re willing to hold a possible sale. Otherwise, I can call you with the information to mail the necessary paperwork._

Arlane hesitated a long moment, almost beginning to say mail would be preferable. Yet, they had a point. Normally her supplier was very understandable, but she rarely purchased anything as expensive as cocobolo. And as much as her doubts and nerves screamed at her to choose the ‘easy’ way, there was another warm part of her that still remembered how kind Bull had been even as she had frankly embarrassed herself throughout his visit. That part only grew louder as she realized it would be during the football games. Quick, simple, done in a few minutes in all likelihood. Her heart raced as she began to type, seizing the courage before it faded.

_I am more than fine with bringing the paperwork to Bull tomorrow. Thank you for being so flexible. I, and I’m sure my supplier, appreciate it._

The reply came swiftly.

_Excellent. I’ll be picking you up. I won’t have an exact time for you until tomorrow morning but it should be early afternoon if that’s alright._

_Works for me. Thanks Krem._

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend went extremely fast after that. She worried for far too long Sunday morning about what to wear and in the end, settled on a simple black scoop-neck t-shirt with cutouts on the sleeves tucked into a pair of high-waist shorts that emphasized the curve of her waist. Not too dressy but she still looked and felt good, great even. Krem had texted her when he would be by to pick her up and she was outside waiting as he pulled up.

“Hi Krem,” she said with a smile as she got into the car.

“Arlane,” he replied with a smile. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. It wasn’t a problem,” she replied. And oddly, it wasn’t. She had the odd jump of nerves, but considering she was going to Bull which in all likelihood meant his house, she was downright calm about it. They chatted amiably during the drive, mainly centered around his questions about how she and her store were faring. She fell silent as he passed a security check into a private neighborhood with a wave and a few house in, turned down a street which descended into a tunnel.

“There’s a back way into Bull’s house,” Krem explained. “He prefers to keep his private life separate from the media as much as he can.”

“I don’t blame him,” she replied and he sent her a sympathetic smile.

“So, the media doesn’t know about this back entrance,” Krem continued. “The tunnel is long enough they can’t figure out where it lets out. So this is used by Bull occasionally but more for the people that come and go to visit or whatever. We’d like it to stay hidden.”

“Of course,” she said instantly. “I completely understand.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “I doubted it would be an issue, but…”

“It needed to be said,” she finished for him. He nodded, still smiling.

“Here we are.”

Arlane gaped as they emerged from the tunnel. The house was huge, two stories and spread across a beautifully tended lawn. The windows were all tinted. Krem chuckled slightly at her reaction. She blushed faintly but couldn’t stop gaping at the house.

Krem parked the car and they both exited, Krem leading her towards a door set into the side of the house, hidden in the shadows. He opened the door and gestured her through. He had barely closed the door behind him before Bull was approaching.

“Arlane,” called Bull happily in greeting. “Welcome to my house!”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, eyes slightly wide as she glanced around. She approved of his style. The furniture had sleek more modern lines but always had something distinctive to it. It was a style that melded pretty well with her own and she understood why he had been so interested in the rest of her work beyond just seeing what he could expect from her. She shook her head slightly, focusing back on why she had come. “Thank you for inviting me over to take care of this. I’m sorry to intrude on a Sunday.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assured, motioning her back through the house as Krem slipped unobtrusively away. She followed Bull, now entirely distracted by what he was wearing. Jeans and a t-shirt should not look that good. The bare feet only made him all the more attractive. With a blush, she forced her thoughts off the subject.

“Arlane,” said Bull as he pushed open a door to the familiar noise of a football game on tv and a crowd of voices. “These are the Chargers. My friends, assistants, and anything else you could imagine. Chargers, this is Arlane. She’s the one making my dragon.” Hello’s were tossed out as Arlane smiled weakly in front of the group of people. She saw the woman who had to be Dalish, her vallaslin curling across her shoulders and down both arms to her elbows. Her vallaslin was for Dirthamen, Arlane recognized, eyebrows raising ever so slightly in curiosity. But before anything more than welcomes could be exchanged, a turnover happened in the football game and the Chargers as one turned back to the tv, yelling either for or against what had happened.

“Back this way, away from the noise,” he said, amusement in his voice as the Chargers argued. “I didn’t expect you this quickly from what you were telling me about the wood, cocobolo?”

“That’s right,” she said with a smile. “It was really lucky. The first piece they had gotten ahold of was absolutely perfect for the project.” He grinned and gestured her to a bar. She pulled the paperwork out of the folder she had brought it in as she sat.

“Ale?” he offered.

“It shouldn’t take too long,” she said with a smile. He shrugged and sat next to her.

“Here’s a final sketch for you,” she said, sliding it over to him. “I can pretty firmly state it’ll be at least a foot and a half tall and three feet long though it may be closer to two feet by four feet depending on how well the wood wants to cooperate. I know it’s smaller than the medium dog size I had quoted you, but I really didn’t want to pass on this piece with how perfect the dimensions are.” His eyes lit up excitedly and she couldn’t stop the grin as he looked at the dragon.

“Not a problem,” he assured her, finally tearing his eyes away from the sketch.

“Great. Your copy of the invoice from the supplier,” she said, sliding it over. “And the updated estimate sheet. I upped the hours a little bit from last time.” He nodded as he looked everything over, down payment circled at the bottom.

“Looks good to me. How do you want the money?”

“I can only take credit cards at the store,” she said apologetically. “So it would have to be check.”

“Done,” he said, signing the estimate form. “One second, I need to grab my check book.”

“Not a problem,” she said with a smile as he hurried off. She had barely organized all the paperwork into his pile and hers when he had returned and quickly filled out the check, handing it over to her.

“Thank you for all this,” she said sincerely. “For you to go out of your way when you’re busy.” He waved it away.

“Nah. The sooner all this is done, the sooner you can start on it.” She couldn’t stop the laugh at his excitement but he smiled all the same.

“Well, I appreciate it. I’m sure the supplier will be quite happy to know so quickly about the hold on this piece. It would go quickly once they listed it. Normally I have the holds resolved a lot quicker than if this would have had to been done through mail.”

“Would it have been an issue?” he asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” she replied. “They’ve worked with me before, but I’ve also never put a hold on something as expensive as this before. I want to say it wouldn’t have been an issue but…”

“But,” he repeated with a wry grin. “I’m glad this could work then.”

“Me too,” she replied with a smile. A shout rose from back by the tv.

“I’ll get out of your way,” she said, gathering up her paperwork and handing his copies to him.

“You’re welcome to stay,” he offered as they walked back.

“You’re too kind. It’s not a problem. Paperwork’s all ready to go.”

“So you’re going back to work?” he asked.

“Well, no,” she admitted as they slowed to a stop. “The supplier’s closed on Sundays.”

“Then stay,” he said as if it was simple. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re being kicked out.”

“It’s fine. I really don’t want to intrude,” she started as she glanced over at the people gathered around the tv. Her eyes widened suddenly. “What do you mean the Capitals are losing?!”

Bull chuckled as she went red in reaction to her outburst. “Fan of the Capitals?”

“It’s not that. They’re playing the Paragons who have a ton of defensive injuries and that’s before you consider how badly the Paragons defensive scheme matches up against the system the Capitals use. There’s no way the Capitals should be losing.”

“Capitals fucked themselves,” said a stocky man with a moustache and a few facial scars. “Special teams.”

“She knows her football,” called Dalish with a smile.

“So I can guess where you first saw me,” said Bull with a grin. She nodded, looking away, the blush still on her cheeks.

“Come on, stay Arlane,” he urged. “It’ll be fun. Promise.” She glanced back at him, smiling slightly.

“Okay.”

* * *

 

As the time passed and the ale flowed, Arlane relaxed and it took almost no time for the Chargers to warm up to her. From putting in a comment now and then moved to arguing over play calls. She had even gotten comfortable enough to rub it in after she had called a safety jumping a wide receiver’s route to intercept the football. It had only lasted a few seconds before she remembered herself and where she was and she sat back down, blushing, but it was awesome to see. And adorable if Bull was being honest. The afternoon was extremely enjoyable for everyone involved. Conversation even turned a little bit to get to know you between plays, mainly started by Dalish about Arlane’s clan, at one point switching to Elven before the others started playfully teasing them for it.

In the lulls of conversation, Bull let his mind wander back to the moment they had locked eyes at the meet and greet event. The hair had caught him first, of course, with that stunning dark red color against her tan skin. He still wondered if he could have stopped what had happened. She had barely even noticed the jostling behind her, but the next moment she was gone, replaced at the front of the crowd by a group of squealing teenagers. He hadn’t hesitated moving closer to see if she was okay, but when she hadn’t surfaced, and no one around seemed to even notice she was under their feet, he had yelled for the security, trying to move the barriers. In the end, he had caught sight of her before the barriers had been moved and he just grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her out of the crowd and over the divider. That part was well known at this point, the video still circulating the internet.

But in the end, it wasn’t the part of the day he remembered the most, it wasn’t that first sight of her, it was the absolute devastation on her face as she realized that little dragon had been broken. Though meant only as a gift for someone she had no reason to believe she would ever see in person again, she had spent so much time making it. Even broken, that much was clear. And if that was the work she put out just on the side, he had to see what she could do with a commission. Already, he was more than impressed with her work, more professional that others much more famous than she. But she was also real in a way he didn’t get to experience too often anymore. As much as there had been nerves, as much as she had stuttered and tripped over her words in the beginning, she had treated him like a person and not a celebrity. There had been no fishing for compliments, no references to past movies or games to see if there would be any new bit of information to spill to the internet the moment he left, no blind catering to him. As much as she had found the idea of treating him like any other client impossible, she had and in doing so showed him who she was, kind, driven, talented, modest but with pride in both her work and who she was.

All of that from a fall and a little broken dragon. He smiled slightly as he glanced over at her, arguing with Stitches about the upcoming Orlesian season. More like a friend from a fall and a little broken dragon.

As the games wrapped up, Arlane rose to leave, Krem following.

“Arlane, wait a sec,” Bull called as he rose, moving after them while tapping a few things on his phone. He offered it to her. She took it tentatively, looking up at him in confusion.

“Put in your number?” he asked with a grin. “Would you like to come back over next week?” A gigantic smile flashed onto her face, her eyes lighting in excitement.

“Yes,” she said fervently and apparently instinctively because she went bright red, turning her attention to his phone and typing in her number. But the smile remained.

Krem was eyeing him from behind her. Bull just rolled his eyes at him. A second later, she offered his phone back to him.

“Thanks,” he said, turning his attention back to her.

“No, thank you,” she insisted. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Glad to hear it,” he replied with a smile. “Talk to you later.” She smiled and nodded before following Krem out the door. As Bull turned around, he caught the Chargers all staring at him. He blinked then rolled his eyes at all of them as he had Krem, turning towards the kitchen as laughter erupted behind him.

* * *

 

The drive back to Arlane’s apartment went quickly, filled with conversation about the games and next week’s matchups.

“Thanks Krem,” she said with a smile as he pulled up close to the door in the parking lot at the back of the building.

“Not a problem,” he replied as she got out of the car. His phone chimed as she closed the door and before she got two steps away, she heard the window roll down.

“Oh, Arlane,” called Krem. She was already turning back towards the car. He was rolling his eyes at his phone.

“The big idiot forgot to give you this the last time he was here,” he said as he reached over to the glove box and pulled out a piece of poster board, just small enough to fit inside. She took it confused.

_Arlane,_

_You’re the best._

Bull’s autograph filled the rest of the space beneath the words.

“Since you never did get your autograph.” He was smiling as she looked back up.

“Thank you. Really. For everything. You and Bull. And the Chargers. Everyone.” His smile softened.

“You’re more than welcome Arlane,” he replied. “Until next week.” She nodded, her smile widening. She heard the car idle behind her until she entered the building, only then pulling away. She wasn’t entirely sure what to think. She had just spent the whole day at Iron Bull’s apartment, watching football with him and the Chargers. She was going back next week. Iron Bull, not just Krem, but Iron Bull had her phone number. She was… She paused halfway up the stairs to her room. She was friends with Iron Bull. Another bright smile spread across her face as she finished the climb, filed the paperwork, sent off the email to the supplier, and got to work on some other projects.

“Friends,” she whispered to the empty studio, smiling at the sound as she bent back to her work. There had been a lot of great days recently. This was the best. Already she looked forward to next Sunday. Warm and smiling, she hummed as she worked, mind filled with thoughts of Bull and his Chargers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arlane = Ahr-luh-nay

Arlane almost jumped as her alarm went off, pulled suddenly out of a dream. She blushed as she remembered the subject of that dream. So he’d invited her over two Sundays of the past three weeks since she had first visited his apartment. That didn’t mean anything. Neither did the fact he was out of town the third Sunday so it wasn’t as if he could have invited her then. Nothing good would come of this stupid crush. Friendship was more than she had ever dreamed and she had a blast hanging out with Bull and the Chargers. She wasn’t going to ruin that.

Her morning routine continued as normal, if not a little prolonged as her thoughts occasionally wandered. Absentmindedly, she clicked on the small tv she had purchased with some of the extra money that had come into the store since she had been identified as the person Bull pulled out of the crowd. She never really watched anything in the mornings, instead liking the background noise. She normally chose the local morning show. She liked the hosts, Josephine, an established name in the news, and Alistair, a freshly promoted intern who occasionally pulled out a pun she knew wasn’t scripted and always made her snort. They had two Orlesian women as guests that morning. Arlane didn’t bother to pay close enough attention to learn their names. Humming faintly, she stuck a biscuit in the toaster, gathering peanut butter and knife as it toasted. She grabbed the biscuit as it finished, setting it on the counter to cool.

“So we have some news about Iron Bull and Arlane Lavellan, the fan he had pulled out of the crowd last month.” Arlane’s head shot up.

“It appears he has commissioned her, though our sources can’t tell us for what. She was seen with one of his security team this past weekend carrying a portfolio.”

Arlane grimaced as the report continued. She had brought her portfolio the last time to show Bull progress and some slight changes to what the final would look like after she had gotten her hands on the actual wood. She wasn’t sure if she had expected to keep it a secret or not, but if the rush this time around was anything like the last time, she really would have to close the store due to low product. She groaned, mind already racing with the preparations she’d have to make. She shook her head, turning back to her breakfast. She’d finish her food first, _then_ make a list. She gradually tuned back in as she opened the jar of peanut butter. They were reminding the audience of who she was, touching on how Bull knew her, her store, and finally, her race.

“Is she _really_ supposed to be Dalish?” tittered the one Orlesian woman. “Doesn’t look a thing like it.” Arlane froze, her head lifting slowly to the tv.

“Well it’s not like anyone would pretend to be part of that ridiculous culture,” put in the second woman.

“If you can call it that.”

“The Dalish culture is well respected,” interrupted Josephine quickly. “And quite beautiful besides. There are images of some of the work she’s done on her website. She’s quite talented.” The first Orlesian woman sniffed, waving a hand before the images of Arlane’s work appeared on the screen.

“Please. It’s niche at best. I’m tired of having to overstate things just because one of these elves made it.”

“I completely agree,” said the second guest. “Would we even be talking about this if she wasn’t Dalish? If she wants to make her little wood carvings, go back to those clans of theirs. At least then she could suck resources from different cities instead of just ours and make the news for it.”

“That is incredibly insensitive,” said Josephine, obviously shocked.

“Her race _really_ doesn’t matter…” agreed Alistair admirably before the two guests spoke over him, one shooting him a withering glare.

“I mean it’s great and all that Bull is supporting one of them, but don’t _our_ craftsman and artists deserve his business?”

“I bet he’s just feeling sorry for her after what happened at that event. Throwing her a bone so she doesn’t sue. Maker knows those elves would do anything to upjump.”

“Right?” agreed the first. “They’re already invading our cities. Just send them back to their clans.”

“We’re live…” said Alistair weakly, in wide-eyed shock at the racist outbursts of the two. Arlane felt numb as she stared at the tv, breakfast forgotten. Even as Josephine exploded angrily at the two Orlesians, the show suddenly cutting to commercial before she really got going, Arlane stared. Almost mechanically, she turned the tv off. She crossed the few steps to her futon, knees wobbly, and sank down onto it. She didn’t know how long she sat there, staring at the floorboards. As she heard someone coming up the stairs, she finally looked up. Dagna appeared, looking relieved as she caught sight of her. Arlane blinked.

“Dagna… The store… I should…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said, hurrying forward, the relief gone, transforming into concern. “I put up a sign. You don’t have to open the store today. I took the phone off the hook.” She paused. “Oh, Arlane, I’m so sorry.” The words finally made it past the shock and hurt bloomed, bright and overwhelming, in Arlane’s chest. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. Dagna wrapped her friend in her arms and rocked her gently as she wept.

* * *

 

Arlane cried herself back to sleep, staying in the blissfully dreamless rest until lunch. When she woke again, the hurt was still there, along with shock and more that she didn’t want to think about, couldn’t begin to name. Dagna was still there and offered food, but didn’t push when Arlane just shook her head.

Arlane felt disconnected, not knowing how she should react, though almost positive nothing wasn’t it. But nothing and silence was better. Silence Dagna could fill, and she did with chipper stories, new ideas for equipment, even light chiding over a mishandling woodworking router at one of Arlane’s worktables. When Dagna was talking, Arlane could distract herself from the confusion inside her head and heart. In the middle of the afternoon, the next big news came.

“Varric posted a really scathing statement,” said Dagna with a smile. “Said his weekly segment with the news station is on hold until they issue a public statement definitively calling their guests’ statements as racist and not representative of the news station at all.” Arlane blinked.

“But that’s his job in between books,” she said faintly. Dagna’s face fell, concern etched more plainly on it.

“You’re his friend Arlane. That’s more important.” Arlane blinked again but said nothing. She couldn’t even decide if she was happy Varric had stood up for her or upset he had risked something she knew he enjoyed for her. When even Dagna couldn’t distract her from the continuing turmoil inside her head, she curled back up again and fell asleep.

The next time she woke, the sun was setting. Dagna was still there. She had covered Arlane with a blanket while she slept and Arlane clutched at the soft material as she sat up.

“You can go home Dagna,” she said softly.

“I’m fine,” she replied cheerily. “I ordered out for some food. Did you want any?” Arlane just shook her head.

“Well, I’m going to put the leftovers in the fridge. All yours,” Dagna replied with a smile. It became obvious as Dagna started another story that she wasn’t going to leave and Arlane managed to update her on all the pieces she was working on. It wasn’t the normal kind of update, more one-sided than usual, but Arlane had to do something to fight the burn in her throat that would have led to more tears.

Dagna left a little while after that, long after her shift would have ended at the store. Arlane waved her off, closing and locking the door behind her. The absence of her cheery presence made the silence loom all the larger in the growing shadows.

Wrapped in a blanket, Arlane slowly drifted through her apartment. She glanced over at the kitchen, peanut butter jar still sitting out from breakfast. She didn’t have any interest in food or putting away what had been left out. But her phone sat on the counter. Curiosity sparked bright enough for her to make her way over, picking it up as she moved back towards the futon. Even with all the messages from friends, nothing sparked through the dull haze. She half-heartedly scrolled through the notifications, starting almost immediately after the… what did she call it? Incident? Racist outburst? Did it even matter? Her friends had been trying to contact her from that point on. A part of her felt warm that so many of her friends had sent a text message and tried to call, but that warmth seemed far away, doing nothing for the chill that had descended since she had heard those words. She scrolled and scrolled and scrolled until she felt panic run through her chest at the sender of one of the text messages. From Krem sent an hour and a half previous. What if Bull had wanted an update? What if they thought she was a flake? Quickly, she opened the message.

_Arlane, we’re all very sorry. Bull’s keeping silent publically. He thinks it’ll only draw more attention to you. He has not stayed silent privately along with the rest of the Chargers. You have our support. Just so you know, he couldn’t make a coherent text so he left it to me._

The screen blurred through the tears that welled in her eyes. She pressed a shaking hand against her mouth as she sank onto her futon. Did they know how much just those few words meant? How in the world had she gotten to know a celebrity and his team like this? Not only know them, but become friends with them, so that just like every other of her friends, they were sending her support? She lowered her hand from her mouth, took a deep breath that sounded more like a sob, and with hands that still shook, typed a response.

_Thank you._

It was all she could manage, all she could think of. She hoped they would understand. Overwhelmed, she turned her phone off, wrapped her blanket tightly around her, and curled up on the futon, not even bothering to move it down, as she hadn’t the other times she had gone to sleep that day.

_…invading our cities…_

_…those elves would do anything to upjump…_

She squeezed her eyes shut, but as much as she yearned for the emptiness of sleep, it didn’t come. She lay in the darkness, hateful words repeating in her mind.

_Throwing her a bone so she doesn’t sue…_

_But Bull doesn’t think that,_ said another voice. The text shone bright in her mind as she had seen it on the screen.

You have our support.

Clinging to those words and the thought behind them, Arlane finally fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the longer than normal wait on this chapter. Things have been extremely hectic at work over the last two weeks due to a corporate visit tomorrow (which I am coincidentally not working during) and I've been exhausted. I'm going to try and get back onto the once a week upload schedule now that it's all over with. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Reminder: Arlane = Ahr-luh-nay

Bull hadn’t been in Denerim. He was in Val Royeaux, auditioning for a new movie. It wasn’t that long a trip so only Krem, Skinner, and Stitches came along. Krem found out at lunch. He didn’t tell Bull until after the day’s audition and meetings finished. There was nothing any of them could do halfway across the country. It didn't stop Bull from cursing and yelling and pacing, the restraint he barely held on to in order to keep from hurling breakable objects across the room extending the rant far past the point of coherence. 

Now, it was getting late. Krem had sent the message Bull hadn’t been calm enough to write over an hour ago, and still nothing. So when Krem’s phone buzzed, both their heads snapped up.

“It’s from her.” Bull pushed up off the couch.

“What does it say?” he demanded, closing on Krem.

“Thank you.”

“That’s it?” demanded Bull.

“That’s all it says. Thank you,” replied Krem. Bull growled as he paced the hotel suite floor.

“Those assholes. Those fucking assholes.” Krem frowned at his phone, knowing as well as Bull did it was unlike Arlane to send a two word response, even if it was thanks.

“Let me see if I can find anything else out since the last time I checked,” said Krem, pulling up the web browser on his phone.

“The obsessives don’t seem to care,” said Stitches. Like all celebrities, Bull dealt with many fans, and among those were the ones who became obsessed. Even most of those were all well and good once Bull learned to deal with the fact they could uncover obscure bits of information about him. But a fraction of those were the kind of fans who would and had harassed some of Bull’s former lovers. Those got nasty. If Arlane wasn’t on their radar, it was all the better.

“But her Skyhold Crafting main website is down,” continued Stitches, “and the social media sites are a mess of supporters and people with worse things to say than what was already said.” Both he and Skinner had been as angry as Bull and Krem when they saw the video. Stitches had been monitoring social media, taking over the job after Skinner exploded at one particularly nasty comment towards Arlane. She now sat, ever so faintly fuming still, looking back and forth between Krem and Stitches for any kind of news.

“Hmm,” said Krem as he scrolled through his phone.

“What? What is it?” asked Bull.

“It seems Varric and Arlane know each other. Varric called for a public denouncement of the statements and affirmation that the station doesn’t stand for racism or he won’t do his weekly segment with them. He did not dance around how angry he was. They’re friends.”

“How ‘bout that?” commented Bull. He and the Chargers knew Varric as well, having crossed paths a few times after Bull began acting. “Wait, how long he’s known her? I could call him, see if he’s heard anything.”

“That could work,” said Krem, looking up from his phone. “He said in the statement, he’s known her for a few years.”

“So do it,” said Skinner. Bull didn’t answer, already scrolling through his contacts. As he found Varric’s number and put the phone to his ear, there was a brief moment of worry that Varric had changed phone numbers since they had swapped their contact info.

“Tiny,” said Varric as he answered the phone, removing Bull’s worry about the contact info. “It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, it has. What have you been up to?”

“Writing. Arguing with my agent,” laughed Varric, but there was a slight strain to it.

“Look, not to cut out the pleasantries but I’m calling about Arlane.” There was a pause.

“So it wasn’t just the pulling her out of the crowd and commissioning her then.”

“No,” replied Bull. “We’re friends. She’s been over most weeks to watch football with me and the Chargers.”

“This is something I’m going to be very interested in when I’m not worried anymore,” said Varric, curious but again with that strain. “As far as I know, no one’s heard from her since her work partner left the store around 6.” Bull felt confusion slam into worry. Tilting his phone slightly away, he turned to Krem.

“When did she send that?” he asked.

“Ah,” said Krem, pulling up the message. “About 20 minutes ago now.”

“What was that?” demanded Varric.

“We got a reply from her about 20 minutes ago. But all it said was thank you.”

“…We really have to talk after all this Tiny. She hasn’t responded to anyone else all day.” The strain in his voice had lessened, even more curiosity creeping in. Then he was serious again. “So you _did_ hear from her?”

“Yeah, but like I said, just ‘thank you’. It wasn’t like her.”

“No, but neither is not getting back to any of her friends. She hadn’t had to deal with any of this shit, like for real, before today.”

“And it was on tv, shit.”

“You said it.” Silence fell on the line.

“Look, is there anything I can do?” asked Bull.

“I know half her friends have already planned to drop by tomorrow. I think it will help but I know it’ll also overwhelm her.”

“So keep quiet a few days and check back in?”

“That should work. You said she’s been over for football. You in town Sunday?”

“Ah… yeah,” said Bull as he flipped through his mental calendar. “I think I am.”

“Keep it normal,” stressed Varric. “Invite her over like you would any other Sunday. She moves on by distracting herself until she’s ready to accept what happened. At least, that’s how she dealt with a death.”

“It sounds like her.” Arlane had been happiest, from what he had seen in their brief, though expanding, interactions, when she forgot to overthink, too caught up in whatever was happening and only reacting instead. Not that she was odd or a bother when she wasn’t simply reacting, not by any means. He realized he had gone silent and forced his thoughts back to the conversation at hand. “I’ll have Krem text her later this week, then business as usual Sunday.”

“Good. Thanks,” sighed Varric. “Say hi to Krem for me. I have to go tell some people someone has heard from Arlane since Dagna left.”

“Sure. Thanks for your help Varric.”

“Oh, you’ll hear from me soon Tiny,” he chuckled. “I still need to hear this story.” Bull chuckled slightly as Varric hung up, but it faded quickly.

“And?” prompted Krem who had been lingering nearby. Skinner and Stitches glanced over.

“Normal come Sunday. For her. You can text her in a few days, see how she’s doing. Otherwise, it didn’t happen.” Krem nodded, glancing down at his phone to send off a text, presumably to the Chargers to inform them as well.

“Was there anything else about how she’s doing?”

“No.” The word hung heavy in the air. “He said we’ve been the only people she’s responded to all day. And that she’s never really had to deal with racism.” Krem winced.

“Fucking shem,” spat Skinner.

“Normal,” emphasized Bull before a half-smirk pulled at his lips. “So you’d better start getting ready now Skinner.” The laughter broke the tension in the room. Though still concerned, they had a plan, something to focus on, something to do for her. Skinner and Stitches spoke quietly for a while before heading to their rooms. Bull and Krem sat in silence the whole time, Krem on his phone.

“Normal…” repeated Krem thoughtfully.

“What?” asked Bull, pulled from his thoughts.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Krem with a smile as he typed on his phone. Bull felt another part of him relax.

“Good,” he sighed. “At least someone does.” Krem glanced up, an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t start,” Bull warned, knowing the look in his lieutenant’s eyes. Krem merely shook his head. Narrowing his eyes, Bull studied him. Getting nothing, he briefly pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and stood.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Sleep well, chief,” replied Krem, looking back to his phone. He worked as the door to Bull’s room closed and for almost an hour after. He had needed to see what people were saying himself. She didn’t deserve any of it. It had made him even angrier than before, but he took it in stride. After all, Cremisius Aclassi was very serious about his job. Mainly, of course, because he cared about the people involved. Bull may not be ready to accept what Krem was beginning to see, but he could. He accepted it, he approved of it, and he moved to shift what needed to be shifted to continue doing his job as he always had. Keeping their family safe.

With a smile, he rose and stretched, mapping out what would need to happen the rest of the week in his head. He slid into his bed, confident and just a little excited. The week held the potential to be very interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize again for the delay. The announcement of Trespasser depth charged my plans for once a week updates as I played far too much Inquisition trying to get Arlane's character ready for the DLC. Then it released and I played it and everything I wanted to write had to do with that. Long story short, I should be back now. Enjoy!

Arlane lingered by the back door out of both her apartment and the store. It was Saturday, five days after the mess on the morning show. Things were slowly getting back to normal. Her main website was back up, her professional email being monitored and watched by Dagna, only passing on professional inquiries about her work. It hadn’t taken long after Varric’s statement for the tv station to issue a statement of their own distancing themselves completely from the statements made. Every one of her friends from Dorian to Varric had shown up to keep her out of the chaos that was her store again. She had spent the week working on pieces for display and Bull’s commission. She was really happy with the progress made on it, details on the wings beginning to finalize in the wood. Not to mention all the work allowed her to ignore the part of her that still hurt and was entirely confused as to how to react.

But one of the best parts of the week was the text she had gotten from Krem on Thursday. Besides a check in to see how she was doing, he had explained that the Chargers rotated who was in charge of food for Sundays and that, if she wanted, she could have this Sunday. Arlane hadn’t thought twice and accepted excitedly. It had been awhile since she had cooked for anyone. So she was waiting for Krem to show up. He had picked up the ingredients she had asked for when they had been texting and was heading to pick her up to go back to Bull’s house so she could prepare and get the chicken marinating for the next day. She almost missed when Krem pulled into the parking lot, expecting the black car he had used before. Instead, he drove a modest silver car. She stepped out the door, locking it behind her as he pulled into a parking space. Krem smiled as she got into the car.

“Nice to see you,” he said in welcome.

“Same,” she replied with a smile. She always had felt comfortable with Krem and the Chargers. Bull was a different story of comfort, and anxiety, and remnants of a crush. At least she hoped they were remnants. But it meant more than she could say that he hadn’t asked how she was doing. They lapsed into silence as he pulled back out onto the streets. She could feel his eyes flicking towards her, hear him fighting the question he wanted to ask. She was still happy he didn’t ask it, but felt that hurt and confused part of her she tried to ignore begin to rise. She pushed it away. But guilt that Krem, the Chargers, and Bull had rarely seen her as she normally was had her speaking.

“I’m sorry. It seems like you guys have been seeing me at really bad times lately.”

“It hasn’t been easy for you since Bull pulled you out of that crowd,” he said sympathetically. “We all understand that.” Conversation settled after that and they spoke of the upcoming football matchups the rest of the way to Bull’s house. It was quiet as they entered, each carrying bags.

“Where is everyone?” she asked as Krem led the way to the kitchen.

“Bull won’t be back until tonight. He’s got most of the Chargers with him. Big meet and greet up in Kirkwall. And the others are out enjoying their Saturday.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t with him,” she commented.

“I had other important matters to attend to,” he said with an apologetic smile for his vagueness. She just waved a hand as she put the bags down, letting the issue drop. It was a work thing. Enough said.

“Bull did want me to make sure you didn’t need anything though.” Arlane stilled for a moment, doing her best to silence the swirl of emotions that had surged in her mind.

“I don’t think there’s anything he could do,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay Krem,” she assured. “Really. I appreciate it, but there’s been more than enough other concerned people that have been taking care of little things. Some of them much more… aggressively caring than others.” She laughed slightly at how she had to phrase it.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

“No,” she laughed, and like that the down moment was gone, her amusement pushing back the emotions she didn’t want to deal with. “No, I’ve been single for… Creators, almost eight months now. She had a much less serious idea of what the relationship was and would be. I don’t think all of this would have bothered her at all.”

“What?” asked Krem. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t have been upset?” Arlane winced.

“She… wasn’t my girlfriend. I was probably exaggerating what we had when I said relationship. Actually, not even probably.”

“Ah,” he said, as understanding took over the shock. He shifted slightly. “I didn’t mean to assume…”

“Both,” she said easily, much to his relief. “No harm done. But I haven’t had something serious since… Well, since Renan. He…” She trailed off, dropping eye contact. The drastic shift in her body language had alarm bells going off in Krem’s head.

“I’m guessing your friends filled the gap,” he said, shifting the subject away from what was clearly an off limits topic for her.

“Yeah,” she said, her breath huffing out in a half-laugh, half-exasperated sigh, but it took a long few moments until she could meet Krem’s eyes again. “I think just about every single one has shown up over the past few days.” She reached for the bags, ready to get started.

“What do you need?”

“Measuring cups and spoons, cutting board, knife, and freezer bags to marinate the chicken in, please. Oh and a sauce pot.”

“How many bags?” he asked as he moved to get the items from where they were stored.

“Um… I don’t actually know. I’ve never had to make this much chicken before,” she laughed.

“Sorry. We do eat a lot,” laughed Krem as he just handed over the whole box of large plastic bags.

“Oh no, I really like cooking,” said Arlane as she set out the supplies and ingredients. “But I’ll make dinners that should be eaten with four and have leftovers for those next three days or I’ll look up from working on a piece and it’s almost 8 so I don’t bother cooking anything. I don’t get the chance a lot. Do a lot of the Chargers like to cook?”

“Well you’d think so with the pick who’s in charge of food each week,” started Krem, chuckling slightly. “But most weeks it’s just who’s paying for the pizza or wings or takeout.”

“So, I’m going overboard?” she asked, shaking her head, though she was smiling.

“Nah. It’ll give us all a good kick in the ass to pick up our week next time around.”

“Ah, I see. You’re using me to guilt everyone into making food every week. Clever Krem,” she joked even as she began measuring out ingredients. He laughed as he set the sauce pan by her elbow.

They traded jokes, towards each other as well as other members of the Chargers, as Arlane put together the barbeque sauce and set it to reduce on the stove. Washing her hands, she then turned her attention to the whole chickens. Their conversation had quieted and she searched for a new topic while sharpening the knife, missing the amused and slightly wary eye she was getting from Krem for how deftly she handled the knife. Pulling a chicken onto the cutting board, she spoke.

“How long have you and Bull known each other?” she asked as she split open one of the chickens. “It seems like awhile.”

“Yeah, it seems like it a lot of times,” he replied. “But it’s only been… three years? I always have to think about that one.”

“One of those click friendships,” said Arlane with a smile. Dagna had been a little similar. A click when they first met and they had been friends since. “Where did you meet?” Two chops later, the legs were off the torso of the chicken and laid off to the side.

“Bar fight if you can believe it,” laughed Krem. 

“You’re joking,” she laughed, looking up. “Really?”

“Yep. And he wasn’t the one who started it.” Krem was smiling.

“What did happen?” Arlane looked back to the chicken, her attention now on the wings.

“This group of guys had cornered me. They didn’t think it was right for a girl to be dressing up like a man.”

The knife hit the cutting board with a louder thud than normal and her head snapped up so sharply, Krem thought for a moment she had cut herself. She was surprised, but angry.

“I didn’t…” She grimaced as if she thought she had said something wrong. “They were that pissed about you? It’s not even their business.” Krem smiled.

“People will always stick their noses where they don’t belong. Whether it’s those guys or those two Orlesians.” Her lips twitched briefly into a sad smile before she focused back on the chicken, removing the wings fully this time.

“Anyway, Bull stepped in. He ended up getting banged up but the worst of it was his left eye. Traumatic iritis. Damaged his vision permanently. All the vision he’s got in that eye is shapes. The big idiot didn’t even know me.”

She smiled sympathetically. “It sounds like him though.” Krem laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I definitely learned that.” Silence fell for a moment as Arlane split the two halves of the chicken.

“Could you check on the sauce for me?” she asked as she separated the thigh from the breast, trimming excess from both.

“Starting to bubble around the edges,” he reported.

“Could you stir it and keep an eye on it? Take it off the heat once it’s started to boil.”

“You got it. Your recipe?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, finishing up the other half of the first chicken. “It’s best for grilling so I make it a lot during the summer.”

“Hmmm,” said Krem as he glanced at the spoon he had stirred the pot with.

“Ah, ah,” she warned, smiling. “Don’t think about it.” Krem laughed, putting his hands up in surrender.

“I’m going to set this all up and none of you, including Bull, are going to touch anything.”

“You’ll know?”

“I have my ways,” she laughed, pulling another chicken towards her.

Before long, everything was ready. Chicken butchered and placed in their bags, along with respective bags for spare ribs and tofu she had requested after being assured multiple times by Krem that price wasn’t an issue. Conversation had drifted back towards football by the time Krem had taken Arlane home, extremely happy to see a smile on her face as she waved goodbye. He had the house to himself for a little while longer and cleaned up the leftover dishes from Arlane’s visit, also at his insistence since she was cooking. Everything was drying when the front door opened, the noise indicating Bull and the majority of the Chargers were back. Krem stayed where he was at the kitchen table. It took only a few minutes for Bull to appear.

“Krem,” said Bull in welcome as he let himself fall into a chair by his friend. “What’d I miss?”

“Everything’s normal,” Krem replied. “Arlane was by earlier to get some stuff marinating for tomorrow. Do not touch. She said she’d know if someone was messing around with the meat or the barbeque sauce.” Bull’s eyes lit excitedly.

“Barbeque sauce?”

“Grilled barbeque chicken,” confirmed Krem. “Spare ribs and vegetarian options too. She thought of everything.”

“How is she?” asked Bull, sobering slightly.

“When she’s thinking about it, not too good,” replied Krem, grimacing slightly. “Almost normal otherwise. Tomorrow should be good for her. As long as no one does something stupid.”

“Don’t even start with the look Krem,” laughed Bull. “I already knew that much.” Krem shook his head as his phone vibrated. He picked it up to reveal a text from Arlane.

_Krem, I really hope I didn’t say anything that would have offended you after you told me how you had met Bull. I honestly didn’t mean to if I did and I apologize for not thinking before I spoke._

Krem couldn’t help but laugh, his smile soft. She would worry about something like that.

“What’s so funny?” asked Bull.

“I told Arlane about how we met today,” he explained. Bull’s eyes sharpened slightly. “She thought she might have said something that offended me and was apologizing.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t if you’re laughing,” replied Bull, relaxing.

“No,” said Krem, chuckling. “She was surprised. Started to say ‘I didn’t know’ or something like that and cut herself off, thinking she was being rude.” Bull chuckled too.

“It sounds like her though.” Krem smiled as he raised his phone to reply to Arlane, enjoying the parallel to when Arlane had said the same thing in reference to Bull earlier.

_Trust me Arlane, nothing you did offended me. I’ve had a lot worse reactions and not many better ones. You don’t have to worry about a thing. See you tomorrow._

Her reply came quickly, as they normally did.

_Thank you. Sorry to bring it up then. See you tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it!_

Krem smiled. So was he. And Bull as well if the number of times he had been at the fridge for random things was any indication. Each time Krem had caught his eyes flick to the marinating chicken. Tomorrow would be quite fun.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I'm not going to say when I think uploads will be anymore because life invariably gets in the way. I truly did not mean for this chapter to take so long. I hope the next chapters won't take so long in the future. Thank you for reading!

Arlane was surprised as Saturday ended and she woke up Sunday. The time was passing normally. Other times she had gone over to Bull’s the time had flown or dragged. Now, even with going over earlier to set up the grill and get the food cooking for kick off of the first game, it was if there wasn’t anything strange going on. This was especially surprising after she had spoken about Renan, even briefly. She had woken to half-formed dreams and images that faded quickly, but left an uneasy feeling, and she turned to her work to force it completely out of her mind for the day ahead. He wouldn’t ruin this. She glanced to the dragon sculpture. The wings were detailed, though not complete and the body was becoming much more defined. She’d work on a piece of the gallery for a little bit and make sure her mind wasn’t going to wander. Bull’s commission deserved her full attention.

It was easier than she expected to clear her mind and quickly switched from the gallery piece to Bull’s dragon. She found the further she went on his commission, the more excited she got about it. This was easily going to be her best work. She could focus so much more than normal while working on it. She wasn’t sure if it was the challenge, the fact it was a commission, or the fact it was a commission from Bull that allowed that extra focus, but she welcomed it. Not wanting to get too involved with the body which still needed a lot more work, she continued working on the wings.

She didn’t know how long it was, but was pulled from her focus when her phone rang. As she answered it, she caught sight of the time and swore just as the line connected. Krem chuckled on the other end.

“Lost track of time?”

“I was working,” she groaned as she pushed away from the table. “I didn’t set an alarm. Give me five minutes.”

“Not a problem,” he replied easily. Hanging up, she pulled the apron off and headed for her bed where she had thankfully laid out her outfit before she had started working. Outfit was generous though. It was what she always wore to grill. Jeans and a worn football jersey. It was blank, only showing the team logo, but it was all she could afford at the time, one of the first things she had bought after coming to Denerim. The Antivan Crows had always been her favorite team. Bull had never played for them but that hadn’t stopped him from being one of her favorite players in the league. She dressed quickly, took a quick look at herself in the mirror and hurried down the steps. Krem’s car was idling in the parking lot as she exited her building, locking the door behind her.

“Sorry,” she apologized again as she got into the car.

“Bull’s commission?” he asked with a knowing grin as he began to back out of the parking space. She almost laughed.

“Bullseye.” Krem groaned.

“Not you too.”

“What?” she asked, her grin only widening.

“The chief loves his puns. _Loves_ them.”

“Well, to be fair, groaning at bad puns is a lot of fun.”

“Wait until he starts making them with your name.” Arlane considered this for a moment.

“I’m actually terrible at puns. That one was actually an accident,” she admitted sheepishly. “I can’t think of what he would call you.”

“Good,” said Krem, a neutral look on his face. Arlane simply looked at him, waiting.

“…Krem de la crème,” he finally muttered. She snorted instinctively, a hand clapping over her mouth to stop the laughter, but he had already started laughing at her reaction and they both dissolved into laughter for a moment.

“Really good puns then,” she commented with a wide smile.

“Really bad ones.”

“Same thing,” she laughed. “So is it only Krem he puns or does he go for Cremisius too?”

“Everything. Cremisius ‘Krem’ Aclassi. Anything’s up for grabs.”

“Aclassi?” Krem glanced over, not sure why she was asking, but the look on her face had his falling.

“Don’t.”

“So you’re ‘a classi’ guy?” She burst into laughter at the look on his face.

“I’m sorry. I actually thought of one. I had to say it. I’m sorry.”

“I wish it was the first time I heard it,” Krem replied, his lips twitching. The rest of the trip was talking about football. There were some big rivalries playing that day that everyone was looking forward to. And that was before they considered the food being made.

* * *

 

Arlane walked into the kitchen to find Rocky quickly closing the door to the fridge. He greeted her with a smile just a little bit too wide.

“Beer?” he asked, offering her a bottle.

“Nice try,” she said with a knowing smirk. “Out.”

“I told you she’d find out,” said Krem, leaning against the counter.

“Well when you don’t give any warning that you’re back…” muttered Rocky good-naturedly as he left the kitchen. Arlane smiled as she opened the fridge, checking on the marinating meats before closing the door again and checking her phone for the time. She grabbed a bowl, filled it with ice and water before turning to Krem.

“Could you show me where the grill is?” she asked Krem.

It took little time for him to lead her out to a beautiful wooden deck with a large round grill in one corner.

“You got the hickory. Excellent,” said Arlane with a grin as she saw the bag of wood chips sitting by the grill. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll go grab some matches.”

“Thanks Krem.” In the time it took him to return, Arlane already had the wood chips soaking and was almost finishing arranging the charcoal in the grill.

“Is this how you would grill with your clan?” he asked as he handed over the matches and lighter fluid.

“Not exactly,” she said with a grin. “Cast iron over an actual wood fire. I still miss the taste of food that way. This comes close.” Krem smiled.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just let any of us know if you need anything. Beer’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks again,” she called even as she held a match to one point of the pile of charcoal. It wasn’t long until she had it going as she wanted it before heading back inside to the kitchen. She took out the chicken, ribs, and tofu from the kitchen, letting them sit on a counter as she finally opened up a beer, taking a drink as she opened the container of extra barbeque sauce and stirring it. She glanced up as the door to the kitchen opened and smiled as Bull walked in.

“Arlane,” he greeted warmly. “Already into the beer?”

“Better test than a clock. By the time I’m finished this beer, the charcoal will be ready to spread out. I’ll add the wood chips, put the grate back on the grill, let it get up to temp and then the fun starts.”

“Oh, so there’s a system.”

“Of course. You’ll see why by the time the games start.” She took another drink of the beer as she pressed her fingers against the bag of chicken, checking to see how quickly it was coming to room temperature. As she turned back, she saw Bull’s eyes on the container of barbeque sauce and his hand beginning to reach out. She swatted at his fingers, sneaking towards the barbeque sauce.

“Stop that. There’s more than enough food to eat after I cook it.”

“It’s really sweet,” he said, having managed to get enough to taste on one of his fingers.

“Of course it is. That’s why you grill with it rather than eat it like a packet from a fast food restaurant.” Bull made an exaggerated guilty look as she shot him a pointed stare.

“But you can grill with the stuff you can buy.”

“Are you saying the stuff you buy would be just as good as what I’m making?” she asked, eyebrow raised. He grinned.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied with a cheeky smile. Arlane laughed, shaking her head at him before she shooed him out of the kitchen.

“Give me an hour and a half. Two tops. I’ll make you eat those words.”

“Still didn’t say anything,” he called as he walked out of the kitchen, unable to stop the wide grin that was spreading across his face. That was normal Arlane and damn if he wasn’t happy to see it after worrying all week.

* * *

 

An hour and a half later, Arlane was finishing her third beer and relaxing in a deck chair as the grill sizzled. The games were going to start any minute and though she felt a little anxious the food was going to be late, the number of times she had been visited by one of the Chargers or Bull to be told how good it smelled was keeping the anxiety at bay. She rose and crossed to the grill, lifting the lid. Smoke wafted up, bringing the smell of chicken and pork and sauce. Everything sizzled, crispy grill marks dark against the red of the sauce. She grinned as she pulled the ribs off and turned the chicken one more time and finishing it with the last little bit of barbeque sauce. Ten minutes later, she pulled the lid off for the last time and transferred the chicken and the tofu to their own separate plates. Opening the door, she went back, carefully balanced all the plates, and headed back inside, catching the door with her foot to allow it to swing close. She had to bite back a laugh when she entered the room and heads perked up. She saw people rise even as she crossed the room. She simply turned her back. She heard footsteps moving closer and if she had turned back, she would have seen all the Chargers closing in on her back.

“Ah!” she warned sharply and every single person froze. She would have blinked if she had been watching them, but her focus was on the food as she set it on the bar.

“Ten minutes. Minimum. Then you can eat.” There were minor groans as the Chargers slunk back to their places around the tv. Bull continued towards Arlane. The food smelled delicious and she smelled just like the hickory smoke she had used.

“No exceptions,” she said with a smirk as she turned. He raised his hands.

“No intention of anything otherwise,” he grinned. “Thank you.”

“For cooking?” she asked. “I should be thanking you. You paid for all the ingredients.”

“And yet you still cooked. We haven’t been this excited in a long time.”

“Ten minutes,” she repeated with a smirk as she circled the bar to pull out another beer.

“I’m serious,” he protested, but he was still grinning. As the ten minutes slowly past, the sharks began to circle, the closer it got to time, the less attention the football games drew. Arlane steadfastedly ignored the eyes on her even a little past ten minutes before she checked the time. She could feel the tension in the room and almost laughed at how excited they were. When she glanced up, she did laugh.

“Go ahead,” she laughed and the horde descended. It took only moments before the first exclamation was heard, echoed by others. Then, Arlane was fielding so many compliments she was almost sheepish at the praise being heaped on her. Only when everyone had filtered back to their seats did she grab food for herself, approving of the job she did as she ate. Bull’s eyes flicked to her as he ate. Even if he had only been poking fun, he felt as if he was eating his words. It was one of the best sauces he’d ever eaten.

“It’s just so good,” sighed Rocky as he tore a piece of rib off the bone.

“You can say that again,” agreed Bull before finally pulling his eyes away from Arlane.

“Eating your words?” she called to him.

“I’m eating a lot of things,” he laughed in response, throwing a cheeky grin at her which brought groans and more than one lewd comment.

* * *

 

By the time the late afternoon games had started, there was barely any food left. Arlane couldn’t help but smile as she made her way back out to the deck, knowing the wood and charcoal would be out by then and she could clean up. She had never expected the response she had gotten and it made her really happy to know they enjoyed her cooking that much. She hummed slightly to herself as she began to clean the grill. She was pleasantly full, the beer and barbeque sitting well in her stomach and though she knew she had drank a little more than she normally did, none of the emotions from what had happened earlier in the week were rising. All she felt was happy and content. Perhaps it was the beer. As Bull joined her on the deck, she quickly decided it _was_ the beer and it must still be affecting her if the warmth she felt was any indication.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, frowning slightly as he noticed she was cleaning the grate of the grill. “You cooked.”

“Habit,” she replied with a shrug. “It’s fine.” He didn’t reply and the only noise was the sound of the wire brush scraping over the grate.

“Is there anything I can do?” he finally asked.

“Nope. I’m just about done,” she replied.

“Anything,” he repeated, a slight push to the word.

“Oh,” she said as she straightened, realizing what he meant. Though the uncomfortable swirl of emotions pushed forward, it was lessened in the face of his concern.

“This was nice,” she said honestly, if a little quietly as she put the grate back onto the grill. “I like cooking for other people.” A smile spread across her face. “And everyone seemed to like it.”

“Because it was delicious,” replied Bull with a matching smile. “I’m glad. It doesn’t feel like much on my end since you’re over most Sunday’s anyway, but if it helped, I’m glad.” Her smile faded slightly. He had done so much even if it hadn’t seemed like it to him. He really shouldn’t feel like he hadn’t done anything.

“Bull, it helped,” she said taking a step towards him. “Really. You don’t have to worry.” He blinked, confusion warring with the smile on his face.

“Good, but I’m going to worry Arlane even if I don’t have to. You’re my friend.”

“Oh,” she breathed, much different than her ‘oh’ from before and a small smile appeared. “Thank you. I just… I know all of my friends have been worried, but I’m going to be okay. In the end, they’re just words, and I’ve heard worse from people I know.” She hadn’t expected his confusion to deepen at her words, but it did. He looked baffled.

“What do you mean heard worse? Not your friends right? Just people from your clan or something?” She froze, eyes going wide. She hadn’t been thinking. She shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have caught it. She was speaking before she realized.

“That would make it simpler, wouldn’t it?” Concern bloomed, forming a crease in the very center of his brow.

“Arlane,” he said softly. No more. No less. Just her name. Her breath caught.

“I…” She looked away, twisting her fingers with her other hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “If you don’t want to say anything, I completely understand. I can…” It blurted from her then. Faced with his concern and compassion, the words fell free before the thought to stop herself made it through the slight haze of beer lingering over her mind.

“I’ve only had one serious relationship,” she interrupted, looking back to him. The confusion was back on his face but it couldn’t even be called confusion anymore. He was incredulous. Whether from her lack of serious relationships or because he had put the pieces together, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t able to tear her eyes away from him, the empathy he had, Iron Bull had for her and eyes on his, she continued to speak.

“He… Renan. We had stopped sleeping together while facing each other. When I finally asked him why he…” A flicker of pain flashed across her face. Her voice quieted. “He told me ‘if I have to watch your stomach bounce more than your tits when I fuck you again, I’m going to be sick’.” Bull’s reaction took her breath away and sent her mind racing. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened. He looked as if she could have said anything else to him other than what she had and he would have been less surprised. The absolute disbelief sent her heart flying. It sent all of her flying. She felt warm, light, but beside it sat a little bit of shock. Never had she expected that reaction. She had told some of her friends before and had been faced with a variety of reactions, but none made her feel the way Bull’s had. He looked as if the very thought she was anything other than perfect had never crossed his mind. But now she was overreacting. She had to be. Before her mind could race any further down that path, she saw anger spark behind his shock and it grew, taking over.

“He said that to you?! A serious boyfriend. However long you’d been together. He said that when he loved you?” Only now did her eyes drop away as she scoffed at herself.

“No. He never loved me,” she said softly. When she looked back up, there was compassion alongside the anger.

“You deserved better.” She felt her throat close up at the words, so sincere and so beautiful. She didn’t deserve them. Not with what she had allowed through that relationship.

“Thank you,” she said softly. The unspoken ‘but’ could practically be heard.

“You deserved better,” he repeated, stepping forward, now only compassion and concern on his face. Her mouth opened but no words came out.

“Arlane…” he started. The door to the kitchen flew open.

“You guys need to see what just happened!” said Dalish excitedly, there and gone in a flash. Both Arlane and Bull looked to each other, realizing there had been an anticipation between them, something they had only figured out after it had vanished. The moment was gone.

“After you,” said Bull, offering a slightly awkward smile as he mentally winced. Maybe it was for the better. It was clear she had been in what sounded like a long-term unhealthy relationship. It wasn’t for him to push the story out of her or push her towards accepting something she wasn’t ready to accept. She’d tell him when she was ready, if she even wanted to. It was the right thing to do, but dammit did he ever want to make sure he never again saw the pain that had been in her eyes as she had relived the moment those words were said to her. He was pulled from his thoughts as he realized Krem was staring holes through him as he and Arlane made their way back towards the TV. He was frowning. It deepened as Arlane rejoined the rest of the Chargers, her smile ever so slightly forced.

“What happened to normal?” hissed Krem, not allowing Bull to respond before standing and calling for dessert requests. It didn’t take long for even the hint of a forced smile to vanish from Arlane’s face as desserts were eaten and games got interesting. Things were practically normal as she left, a chorus of compliments and thanks for the food following her out the door. Bull settled himself on the couch and waited for Krem to return. He knew exactly when his friend had returned, feeling the stare on the back of his head before Krem had even said anything.

“It’s not what you think,” sighed Bull, closing his eyes.

“You were the one _so_ determined not for anyone to bring it up.”

“I asked if I could do anything,” Bull retorted, glaring right back at his friend. “She said today was really good for her, that she’s going to be okay. It wasn’t about what happened on the morning show. This guy Renan…”

“Renan?” said Krem sharply.

“She told you about him?” Krem shook his head as he sat down by Bull, annoyance forgotten.

“Just the name and that he was a serious boyfriend. Not a good one either if I’m any judge.” Bull scoffed.

“Yeah, well you’re a good judge.”

“She said something?” Bull nodded in response.

“Bad?”

“ _Quite_ the asshole,” nodded Bull. Krem frowned deeply. Bull glanced over.

“How did that even come up? What were you guys talking about?”

“I…” started Krem before trailing off. “That doesn’t matter.”

“You asked her how she was doing didn’t you?” accused Bull with a grin. “And you got pissed at me.”

“Oh, shut it you big idiot. I asked about her friends, she told me she was single, then about the last girlfriend that wasn’t really a girlfriend, touched briefly on him before back to cooking and football.”

“You still brought it up too.” Krem rolled his eyes.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” replied Bull with a small smile. “She’ll be okay. On all counts.”

“Good,” replied Krem with a smile. “Now, you have a morning flight. You’re…”

“Going to Antiva. Coming back Wednesday. Audition on Thursday. Blah, blah, blah,” smirked Bull as he rose. Krem rolled his eyes again and Bull laughed before raising a hand and heading back towards his bedroom. Krem’s smile widened ever so slightly as he left, watching him for a moment before heading off to finalize the travel plans, print boarding passes, and finish up last minute things for tomorrow. It had been quite a good day. Slowly, but surely, things were going to fall into place. He was sure of it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the massive wait. A lot of very stressful things have happened since I last updated including a job I liked going to shit and a health scare with my mom. I don't want to go into detail, but needless to say, writing was one of the first things to go. I really want to thank the people who have left comments recently. It really made me feel good and helped me get back into this story. This first chapter back is a little short, but I'm happy with it and that's all I can ask after so long away from it. Thank you to every who has or will stay with this story. It means a great deal to me. I hope you enjoy!

Arlane didn’t even try not to sigh. 3 hours ago she had been finishing off the last of the rough basic work on Bull’s commission. Dagna had double checked to make sure Sera hadn’t forgotten to invite Arlane to the party, she had (something about bees and jam for her new viral prank video), and though Arlane wasn’t going to miss the sending off party for Harding who was starting a new photo scouting assignment the next day, she hadn’t come up with a single idea of how to duck Dorian and Varric. Both had been dropping increasing hints that they wanted to know what was going on with her and Bull. Since most of Harding’s work friends were also out on assignment, the party was small. Other than Dorian and Varric, only Harding, Dagna, Sera, and the artist siblings, Maryden and Cole, were there and all of them seemed to be more than willing to let Dorian and Varric corner Arlane, as long as they got to listen.

“Okay, fine,” she sighed, taking a drink from her beer.

“It’s not our fault you haven’t told us how all this happened,” replied Dorian innocently. Arlane just laughed.

“Dorian, you’ve been out of the university library once in two weeks for all I know and that was to spend a couple hours talking to me about why you were in the library.” Of course, the only reason for that had been to keep her mind off the Orlesians on the morning talk show, but that was beside the point. “How am I supposed to tell you anything if I don’t see you?”

“I’ve asked you plenty of times,” put in Varric.

“Gee, I wonder why I haven’t told an author whose best-seller is a fantasy telling of one of his friend’s life about how a celebrity pulled me out of a crowd and then commissioned me?”

“You wound me,” he replied with a grin. “Come on, I haven’t gotten anything out of Tiny.”

“Because there isn’t anything to tell. He pulled me out of the crowd and I was grateful, but I never expected him to commission me over it. I was a mess the first time we met afterwards, to talk about the commission because the Iron freaking Bull was in my shop.”

“Couldn’t have been that bad,” put in Harding. “He still got the commission.”

“Come on Violet,” prodded Varric, his nickname referring to the purple eye makeup she used. “Tiny himself told me you’ve been over most weekends to watch football. How did that happen?”

“Accident,” she replied truthfully. “I had found the piece of wood I wanted to use and his schedule made it easier for me to go to him to sign the paperwork and everything. He invited me to stay and watch the games with him and the Chargers, his friends and crew,” she added since more than a few people looked confused, “and it just kinda went from there.”

“He helped. Or they all did,” said Dagna. She looked a little sheepish as Arlane blinked in surprise. “You were better after this weekend.”

“Isn’t that interesting?” said Varric, starting to grin again. Arlane rolled her eyes and laughed at him.

“They all did exactly what you did. They were friends. And it’s still weird to say that. Being friends with Iron Bull, not just an artist he commissioned.” And it was. Though she had moments before where she tried to work through thinking Bull was a friend, what Dagna had pointed out was right. Out of all of her friends, the Chargers and Bull in particular had helped the most. Even now, the strange mix of emotions she had felt since those Orlesian women had gone on their rant was dull and easily ignored. What they said had hurt, but the people in her life who mattered had given their say and their support. She wasn’t going to let strangers derail what she had worked for and accomplished.

“Finding something more in a place you didn’t expect?” asked Varric with a grin. “Their eyes met, he pulled her out of a crowd and they knew it was fate.” Sera gagged.

“Cheesy.”

“Come on, just think of them standing next to each other. They fit.” It was almost laughable how many of them looked like they were doing just that.

“Seriously?” Arlane groaned.

“Varric’s just having his fun,” Maryden spoke up. “He sees romance everywhere he goes.”

“Made a move yet?” asked Dorian with a grin, completely ignoring Maryden’s attempt to end the line of questioning.

“Gee, if you’re seeing me still trying to absorb the fact I can call the Iron Bull my friend, seduction was _definitely_ the very next thing on my mind,” said Arlane, rolling her eyes again.

“That’s how all the stories go,” replied Varric, just as cheekily.

“The only thing about this that could be storybook is how we met, but all I found is new friends. That’s it,” she said firmly.

“I get it, I get it,” he sighed, holding up his hands in surrender, but it seemed his curiosity had been sated for the moment. As others began to break off for a new drink or to discuss something else, Dorian moved closer.

“I’m happy for you,” he said softly.

“Dorian,” she sighed.

“Must you think so badly of me?” he teased before his expression softened. “You deserve the break he gave you. And you deserve having a friend who helps you.” Then he winked. “I still vote for seduction though.” With a grin, he turned away as she laughed. As Dorian walked towards the drinks, Arlane noticed that Cole’s attention was still on her. He was quiet, but perceptive. A poet, his style was very distinctive, and he spoke in the same way. It was odd, but comforting in a way she could never explain.

“Your smile is brighter, blinding when days before it was bland and burdened. Lighter. Freer. Happy. He’s your friend and you’re glad.”

“I am,” she replied, smiling as she thought back to the moment on Bull’s deck, facts few knew spilling out in the face of true care. In the face of Bull. A true friend. Cole smiled ear to ear and she cocked her head to the side as she shifted her thoughts from past to present.

“What is it?” she asked. He just shook his head.

“I’m glad you have a new friend.” She smiled.

“Me too, Cole. Me too.”

* * *

 

“I am sorry that Sera forgot to tell you,” said Dagna again after she and Arlane closed the store the next day. “I should have checked in before yesterday.”

“Really, Dagna, it’s not a problem,” assured Arlane. “Even Dorian and Varric weren’t that bad. It was fun. Before you leave, I need something new.” Dagna grinned as they both began to climb the stairs to Arlane’s work room and headed for Bull’s commission.

“It’s going really well,” commented Dagna.

“Yes,” Arlane replied with a grin. “But the rough work was never going to be the hard part.”

“What do you need?”

“Well, dragons have scales, obviously. He’s going to be covered in them. But, I’m not staining this, wax polish only so I need it to be sanded really well and evenly. And I don’t have anything that’s going to guarantee me even sanding at that level of detail that isn’t going to take me forever. I won’t need it for a while, there’s still a lot of work to be done.”

“I can figure something out,” replied Dagna as she studied the in-progress dragon sculpture. “I’ll need exemplars of how small we’re talking. I’ll probably have to modify something outside the standard power tool. Hmmmm.” Arlane grinned as she watched Dagna consider. It was always fascinating to watch her think.

“I’ll make up a few exemplars for you. It’ll be in cheaper wood scraps but that shouldn’t matter.”

“No,” agreed Dagna. “It’ll just be about the size of the details.”

“I’ll have the exemplars for you by the end of the week.”

“I’ve got a few ideas.” They both grinned at each other.

“It’s all working out, isn’t it?” asked Dagna as she left.

“Yeah,” replied Arlane. “It is.”


End file.
